


Borgianachronistics

by loveyhowl



Category: The Borgias (2011)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 03:51:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3595275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveyhowl/pseuds/loveyhowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S3E5.  Somewhat A/U, completely silly observations from one of my favorite shows "The Borgias".<br/>Originally published 05/13/2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wolf and The Lamb

Vatican City, Rome

Lucrezia Borgia prepares herself for the heart-breaking task of leaving her son to go join her husband in Naples. With tears in her eyes she hands the babe to her father, His Holiness, the Pope. He tries to comfort her.

"Cheer up, daughter, you chose the hairy little fuck..." he says as he takes the crying child into his arms.

"Dammit! Did Cesare..."

"Yes, We're afraid that he did," Rodrigo chuckled. Next to him her mother, Vanozza turns her head delicately away and tries to suppress her own. "Don't fret, child; We dare say that the revelation was a useful distraction for your brother, considering that which he was witnessing. And they called us monkeys..." her father says disgustedly.

"Oh, father!" Lucrezia's wailing sobs begin to eclipse little Giovanni's.

"Oh, my darling, don't cry—we will take care of this little bundle of joy as surely as if he is our very own," her mother assures her.

"I know that, that's not why I'm crying..."

"There, there, my love—take your comfort—your mother has graciously prepared a lovely selection of waxes for you and packed them safely in your cassone."

"Oh, father...there's not enough wax in the world!" Lucrezia breaks down sobbing again as her father comforts her in his warm embrace for the last time.

"Alrighty, then—off you go!" he pushes his daughter away unceremoniously toward her waiting escort.

Little Giovanni cries pitifully, wishing the script was following some semblance of a true time line and that he was even within a year of his true age so he could run up to anyone and slap them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Naples, Italy

Micheletto returns to King Ferdinand's castle after a hunt gone horribly awry and joins Lucrezia on the balcony overlooking the courtyard as the king's corpse in brought in on a stretcher.

"My Lady, I fear the hunt has gone horribly awry," he says quietly from behind her.

"Micheletto," Lucrezia begins coolly, speaking surreptitiously over her shoulder at him, "what the fuck happened to our dear King?" 

Micheletto winks at her before she faces the courtyard again. "Let us just say, my Lady, that should you find yourself near a body of water in this God-forsaken part of the country that is not contained in a goblet or a tub, it would behoove you to haul ass away from it like the holiest of all holy hell."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Avignon, France

Cesare Borgia, feeling ecstatic from spending a night with a beautiful wife that he doesn't have to take back to Rome and command and in possession of a full army, that he does, attends to one last task before he leaves Avignon.

"Ah, wonderful...it has arrived!" Cesare exclaims with a sexy smirk upon his face as a crate is set before his feet by two men dressed in odd brown vestments. "And they called us monkeys..." he mutters to himself as he shakes his damn head at the two UPS delivery men. He signs for the crates and dismisses them. "I understand Her Highness has not left the castle yet," he says then to the French Archbishop, "would you please see," he continues as he affixes the documents in his hand to the top of the crate with his official wax seal, "that this, her copy of the Papal Brief dissolving her marriage and the contents therein are delivered to her before she leaves?"

"My pleasure, Excellency..." the Archbishop says, then calls for escorts to accompany him to the Queen's chambers.

"From His Excellency, Cesare Borgia, my Lady..." The Archbishop bows deeply before the distraught woman and then leaves her in great haste. Her ladies gather around her and the two crates in the middle of the room.

"Well! Don't just stand there! Open it!" she yells at no one in particular as she snatches the documents from the top of the first crate. One of her ladies calls for a guard who opens the crates while the Queen reads the documents.

"What is it, my Lady?" Lady Aragona dares to ask.

"The Papal Brief dissolving my marriage...and a personal note from the Borgia Bastard himself," she snorts disgustedly; she thrusts it at the woman. "I'll not sully my hands with any other abominable things his have touched—read it! Aloud, Carlotta!" she orders the woman.

_"Your Highness, please accept this token of my family's affection. Please enjoy it in good health. Borgiatastically yours, Cesare."_

"Oh!" the Queen grunts again, more than outdone at the sure effrontery to follow. "What in hell is in the crate, already? What is it!" she demands angrily.

Her ladies all gasp as the guard hands Carlotta a tall dark bottle of Arrogant Bastard Ale.

"AAARRRGGHHH!" the Queen screams as she runs from the room, totally aghast and in tears.


	2. What, You Say?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> S2E3. Originally published 05/13/2013.

Vatican City, Rome

Rodrigo Borgia meets with Vannozza dei Cattanei and their murderous children, Juan, Cesare and Lucrezia.

"What have you called Us away for? What is it, now?" he asks the angry group as he enters the room.

"The children are at it again, Rodrigo..." Vannozza sighs heavily.

"He murdered my Paolo!" bemoans Lucrezia at her father.

"She killed my whore! And had it not been for the whore I would be dead," Juan retorts in his own defense.

Cesare stands in a corner looking sexy but worried—that he'll either be unable to control himself and run to console his sister in a most inappropriate way or run his brother through with his sword. He valiantly fights both impulses by biting on a knuckle.

"Money well spent, then, brother—wouldn't you say?" Lucrezia hisses at Juan.

"She came into my very room, father, with a smile, a candle, and the intent to impale me under my own chandelier!" Juan looks visibly fit to be tied.

"You and your whore were troubling the sleep of my son!"

"This? From the mother who would not suckle her son until she could garner a stable boy's funeral?" he levels at his sister.

"This? From the captain of an army who will run weeping home, bested by the Vagina of Romagna, Caterina Sforza?" she spits back at her brother.

"You bitch! That's fucking four episodes away from now!"

"If you're lucky, asshole..." she replies in quiet but venomous warning.

"Both of you! We must insist that you stop these infernal endeavors to kill one another!" Rodrigo shouts at them. "Juan, if you put half as much energy into strategizing against our enemies as you do against your sister you would have been more than a success by now. We have other more important battles to fight, headed for the city walls as we speak. Vannozza, We beg you—handle this—We have other matters to attend to."

"Yes, please give Giulia my regards...and that sweet young painter—Vittorio, I think his name is?" Vannozza says with a sly smile.

The children all shoot Rodrigo looks that scream "What the fuck?"

"It's not what you think," he mumbles at them angrily before he leaves them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His Holiness has just ordered every foundry in Rome to begin the manufacture of one hundred cannons and dispatches Vittorio to head the task. Cesare goes to him for a status report.

"How long will it take, Vittorio?" Cesare asks him desperately later that day. "Every foundry, fired-up, 24/7—how many can be made?"

"One, my Lord."

"One? One! We need a hundred! Within the week!"

"Uh...one hundred cannons? With roughly no money, my Lord?" Vittorio lets loose an indignant yet prissy little chuckle. "It would take at least a month. At least."

"What do you mean, 'no money'?"

"You guys fuckin' party like it's 1499, my Lord—the Great Festivities—remember those? We're pretty busted, dude."

"Fuck me!"

Vittorio gives Cesare a strange look.

"What?"

"Uh, nothing. I have an idea...we could build some fabulous fakes...made of plaster..."

"Plaster...is cheap..."

"And fast, my Lord. Come back tomorrow," Vittorio tells him with a smile.

The next day Cesare does just that; Vittorio shows him a perfect plaster replica of a kick-ass cannon.

"Fuckin' A!" he exclaims happily. "Damn, Vittorio! This is exquisite...and there are..."

"Ninety-five more, coming from foundries all over Rome—be here tomorrow," Vittorio tells him proudly and more giddy than the law allows. Cesare's war boner is immediate and Vittorio blushes.

Cesare looks askance at him then, put off by his effeminateness, then looks again, even closer. He steps closer and takes Vittorio's chin in his hand and scrutinizes him; he dares to grab his shirt lapel and look inside of it—Cesare is then orgasmically speechless, his face going through a shitload of angrily confused yet libidinous contortions as he realizes that Vittorio is a hot little female Renaissance wonder. "You're a..."

"Yes, my Lord. I'm sorry about your father."

"What—he's had you?"

"Well, I dare say he's had everybody, but yes. It was a mistake, but it's over now."

"Good," he smiles his desire at her then. "At least I know you can keep a secret," he murmurs at her. "And when this is all over, you shall have another secret to keep—be ready for me—Vittorio."

_"Vittoria..."_ she whispers back at him in a swoon.

Cesare gives a lustful guffaw and then goes on his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caterina Sforza, flanked by King Charles of France and Giovanni Sforza, arrive in Rome with their troops and await Cardinal Cesare Borgia. Cesare emerges from the city gates and advances toward them flanked by two of his own soldiers.

"You make a manly figure on your horse, Cardinal, but the French cannon will soon break down your walls and you will be impotent in the face of them," Caterina Sforza declares calmly.

Behind her, Giovanni Sforza shoots daggers at her for using the word "impotent".

"The only impotent man I see on this field..." Cesare begins with a smile, " sits behind you, my Lady—so apropos."

Beside Giovanni, King Charles snickers and then quickly comports himself under the guise of a cough. "Dust..." he says dryly as he fans at the air.

"Take care, Cardinal..." Caterina warns Cesare with a voice full of fury.

"No—you take care," Cesare cuts her off defiantly, "and tell me if you still want to talk after you behold this..." Cesare raises his arm to signal Micheletto and one hundred flags rain down from the battlements of the city walls to reveal one hundred cannons.

King Charles chokes in earnest and falls off of his horse; the last thing he sees before he passes out are Giovanni Sforza's balls as they race past his own and away from him in the dusty Roman ground.

Cesare rides away from them confidently back through the city gates amidst the cheers of an adoring crowd.

Outside the gate Caterina Sforza is livid. "Somebody pick him the fuck up..." she orders her men, her voice full of outrage and disgust as she turns in retreat.

Inside the Vatican there is a run on laundry maids, who find themselves overwhelmed with requests from the consistory for clean loincloths.


	3. Programmed To Receive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> S3E8. Originally published 06/04/2013.

Vatican City, Rome.

The wages of sin...are filling up the Vatican coffers as the Pope stages a Jubilee Salvation Sale; the presentation of the Spear of Longinus draws multitudes to the confessionals, which are over-run with those seeking forgiveness and bearing the necessary ducats to make it so. One repentant soul haggles with a Cardinal.

"Twenty-five ducats? The board clearly stated ten for acedia!"

"Twenty-five," the Cardinal tells the man brusquely.

"Now look here, I'm not made of money and twenty-five ducats is pretty steep for me just being depressed, listless and not giving a fuck, Your Eminence. And I know my rights—what's on the board is the stated price and that's what you should be bound to charge me," the man tells him adamantly.

"For someone who doesn't give a fuck it shouldn't matter to you one way or the other, then, should it? If you want to see heaven, that is. Twenty-five ducats!" the Cardinal barks at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Romagna, Forli Castle.

Caterina Sforza, devastated by the death of her son, Benito, plots her revenge against the Pope. She consults with Rufio and Cardinal De Luca over the body of her fallen son.

"As we speak, the pilgrims are making their way to Rome for the Jubilee; the Borgia Pope would have his coffers filled with, for what I'm sure, the funds necessary for their campaign to kill me. We need something to divert them away from St. Peters—something magnificent...astounding—a miracle. What would that be?" she addresses Cardinal De Luca.

"Oh. My. God. All of the Romagna is crying out for a hair make-over for Rufio! We could get that blonde, bitchy Australian chick—she's the shit!" De Luca says excitedly.

"Take care, De Luca," Rufio scowls at him as he advances with his sword drawn.

"Rufio, heel. Cardinal De Luca, I like your idea, but our miracle clearly calls for something more ecclesiastical—please act like you know," she chastises him.

"My bad, My Lady. I'm on it..."

Later...

"What have we here, Cardinal De Luca?" Caterina asks him two days later as she and Rufio follow him into a workshop.

"Only the most sacred relic known to Christendom—The Shroud of Constantinople—fresh from Amazon, two-day delivery! Doesn't it look great?" he beams at her.

"It should—it cost enough. So, we charge the pilgrims to pass through Marino on the way to Rome or charge them nothing to come see the shroud. That ought to put a hurtin' on the Pope's pocket," she smiles wickedly at them. "There are catacombs in Marino—display it there."

"I think you'd do better and make some serious ducats out of the deal if you put Rufio in a glass box and let the pilgrims watch him get a make-over by that blonde..."

"Enough, Cardinal De Luca! On task, please. We're going with the shroud, but it needs something more..." she appeals to him and Rufio further.

"Ooh! Ooh!" the cardinal begins waving his hand frantically, "I know! Tears of blood!"

"Calm the fuck down, would you? And yes, that sounds perfect—make it so," she orders him and leaves.

"Aye-aye, Captain Picard!" De Luca salutes her then jumps up and clicks his heels together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vatican City, Rome.

Cesare and his impressive codpiece visit with his father to discuss Caterina Sforza and her shroud.

"Damn it all!" Rodrigo opines as he takes his morning whiz. Behind him he hears his son as he chuckles. "You find this shit amusing?"

Cesare stops chuckling. "Is that what you're about to do? Because I can come back..." he says as he makes to leave.

"No...no...We mean the Sforza bitch, Cesare, and her infernal shroud."

"Yes, that is funny. You two really crack me up."

"We do not find it amusing. We will not deal in fakeries."

Cesare falls off of the bench at the foot of Rodrigo's bed in a fit of laughter.

"Cesare! What on God's earth?" his father begins angrily, "have you lost all reason?"

"Father, really? The Spear of Longinus is not real, either. What's next? Will one of you summon God and have him perform a song and dance for the people?"

"We very well could—he's been written off 'Nurse Jackie' and he's available."

"Father, I'm serious," Cesare says soberly then.

"As are We. You go to Marino and bring back the shroud so that We can authenticate it."

"With what army?"

"Yours, of course."

"You don't expect me to risk all of my shit for something the Papal army should oversee."

"Yes, We do."

"Then for the last time, father—give me command."

"Yes, yes—you have it—command and pay. Now get out of here, you crazy kid."

Cesare and his impressive codpiece leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marino, Italy.

Cesare, his army, and Micheletto arrive at the catacomb housing the supposed shroud; they drive the pilgrims away and then head inside to investigate. What they don't know is that Caterina Sforza has set a trap for them by way of an explosive trail of gunpowder leading into the ruined catacomb. Micheletto climbs up to the shroud to check the "blood".

At the entrance on the other side of the catacomb, Caterina's men light the gun powder and wait.

"Paint, my Lord," Micheletto informs him from atop of the display, which itself sits atop a fine assortment of more ACME explosives. Cesare shakes his damn head. Micheletto looks behind the shroud and sees a fast-moving trail of flame heading their way. "Run!" He jumps down and he and Cesare run like hell out of the catacomb; just before they make it out the force of the explosion catches them as they are overtaken by a ball of flame and propelled to their sure doom.

Caterina, Rufio and her men watch as the two lie smoldering on the ground unconscious. Presently they come to; Micheletto manages to get up and rest himself against a pillar; bloodied and stunned, he gasps his proclamation that, "Jesus must love you, Cesare Borgia."

Cesare rises from the ground. "What a rush! AAAARRRGGHHH! Damn! I want to do that shit again! JESUS LOVES ME!" he shouts with joy.

"As do I," Micheletto smiles as he mumbles to himself.

Cesare turns to him. "Huh?"

"Nothing."

From their vantage point above Cesare and Micheletto, Caterina and Rufio look on at the two still-smoking men, stunned as well; they turn to each other slowly and silently agree that it might not be the best time for Caterina to put her money where her mouth is and skulk silently away from their open, yet well fortified targets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vatican City, Rome.

Cesare Borgia, still healing from his wounds, lies sleeping in his bed when he suddenly feels the caress on his chest at the hands of an unknown intruder. Being a soldier at heart—and conditioned by living a life where treachery and murder are served for breakfast on a daily basis—he chokes his would-be assailant first, with the intent to ask questions later. Maybe. He opens his eyes and sees that it is his sister turning a curious shade of blue in his death grip.

"Cesare," she gasps.

He comes slowly to himself and loosens his grip upon her, then places a tender kiss upon her already bruising neck.

"Ambassador..." he smiles at her.

"Calm down, brother—I just came to say goodbye," she says sweetly.

Cesare chokes her again, playfully this time, but also obviously irritated. "Cock-tease!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Naples, Italy.

Lucrezia has put her son down for the night; as she leaves the nursery she is followed closely by the castle guards.

"Really?" she asks disgustedly out loud. She heads for the bedchamber that she shares with her husband and throws open the doors angrily to find him involved in a vigorous game of Diablo.

"Alfonso, what the fuck? Are we in need of protection? Will they watch us make love, because you know I can totally handle that shit," she fumes at him. Alfonso stares at the guards stupidly. To demonstrate that she means what she says Lucrezia pulls him out of his chair and takes her hairy husband into a torrid lip-lock in front of the unamused guards; Alfonso peels away from her and shuts the doors.

"Dammit, Lucrezia! I was leveling!"

Lucrezia grunts her disgust at him; she storms away and heads for King Frederigo, her every step shadowed by the formidable guards from before. She bogarts her way past his man and into his very bedroom, where he sits at a desk reading.

"Care to tell me why your guards are all up in my grill, King Frederigo?" she demands from him lividly.

"Leave us..." he orders all of the others away from them. He breaks it down to her through flashbacks and we learn of his trickery against his brother and Lucrezia; of how he poisoned his dog and pretended to poison himself to frame his brother and gain the throne.

Lucrezia is horrified and speechless.

"Yes, my dear, you are a prisoner; and what a happy prisoner you should be: your every need will be attended to," he begins pleasantly, "you have the run of the kitchen and the dining room—cook makes a trout roe pie to die for; you have my fine hairy cousin to fuck...so many things to keep you entertained, no?"

"And why am I a prisoner?" she challenges him.

The facade of friendliness drops from his face like a veil. "Because," the King begins with ice in his heart, a harshness of tone and a venomous glare that chills her to her very core, "you chose the wrong brother—welcome to the Hotel California, Borgia bitch."

Lucrezia faints and falls in a heap to the floor.


	4. New Perspective, Different Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> S3E9. Originally published 06/04/2013.
> 
> I don't own "1999" by Prince or "Fire it Up" by Busta Rhymes.  
> I own nothing.

Rome.

Micheletto, devastated by the betrayal of his fine boy-toy, says goodbye the only way he knows how.

"Oh, you shouldn't have," says Pascal, touched by the word scrawled in chalk on the wooden planks at his feet.

"That message is not for you, boy," Micheletto tells him quietly.

"Oh," says Pascal, crestfallen.

Micheletto takes a knife and cuts deep slits along the length the veins in both of Pascal's arms; Pascal holds his arms up and anoints Micheletto as the drops fall over his eyes; he holds the dying man lovingly in his arms.

"Tears of blood..." moans Pascal.

"Yes."

"You've killed so many," Pascal says as his life ebbs away.

"But none like you, boy," Micheletto manages.

"This scene...should have so been in the...last episode..." Pascal says with his last breath.

Micheletto can only nod his agreement through his own tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Naples. Festival of Bacchus.

Lucrezia works the hell out of her confinement and parties with her captor, King Frederigo.

"Fifteen-Hundred, Zero-Zero! Party over—oops! Outta Time!" sings the King as everyone joins in, "so tonight we're gonna party like it's 1499!"

"Isn't it actually 1501?" asks one confused whore of another.

"No, I thought it was 1492..." replies her friend, who is happily sandwiched between a nobleman and a cardinal.

"No, that was Season One—get your head out of your ass, already," says yet another as she stealthily taints the wine in the main cask with the sleeping potion given to Lucrezia from the forest witch; she looks over at Lucrezia when the deed is done and both women smile at each other.

"Her head is not up her ass—it's up mine," laughs the cardinal as he directs his whore's attention back to task.

"Have some more wine, Cardinal," says the whore at the cask as she hands him a fresh goblet.

Later that night Lucrezia escapes with her family in tow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rome.

Cesare goes to Micheletto's lair and finds the dead spy. He looks at his new posse, the Sons of Rome, knowing that Micheletto cannot be replaced and disgustedly tells them as much. They grumble collectively but dare not say anything as they follow Cesare out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Vatican.

Rodrigo and Vannozza meet and talk about how much they miss the kids.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Road back to Rome.

Cesare and Lucrezia cross paths in the night as he heads for Naples and her carriage screeches to a halt en route to Rome. They run to each other and enjoy a happy reunion that quickly turns into a total "Get-A-Room-Already" moment right in front of her husband, Prospero Colonna and Vitellozzo Vitelli. Alfonso watches them stupidly from atop his horse, trying to deny what he's seeing. Prospero Colonna viciously begins to call time.

"Five minutes..."

Alfonso shoots daggers at the man with his eyes, visible even in the dark.

"Ten minutes..."

"Damn!" exclaims Vitelli.

"Enough," hisses Alfonso at them.

"You might want to direct that shit at those two over there," Colonna shoots back angrily at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Vatican.

Rodrigo and Mattai the Hebrew cement their tax-exemption deal and hatch the gunpowder plot—to buy up all the sulfur and confound-and control-the warring factions; then Rodrigo tells Mattai to look less Jewish—only for the sake of safety.

"There's a woman—Australian, real bitchy—but she works miracles with her scissors," Rodrigo tells him as he fluffs the man's hair and assesses the improvements that can be made. Mattai leaves and stops at a little shop on the way home—because living tax-free is totally worth a little Fantastic Sam's chair-time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucrezia is home and feeling out of sorts but Cesare cheers her up and makes her laugh.

"The baby is going to need a bigger cot, my love. Giovanni, too," he whispers sweetly in her ear.

Alfonso watches them with jealous, suspicious eyes. Cesare leaves and when Lucrezia comes to him he asks her what was so fucking funny.

"Nothing, my love. It's just that you make me smile."

"Really? What about me makes you smile?"

"Uh...you're the light of my life! Yeah, that's it."

"You expect me to believe that, do you?"

"Till death do us part, dude." She gives him a look.

Alfonso finds that he is less than comforted by her easy words; he gets in the bed and weeps softly to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sulfur mine at Solfatara Caldera.

Mattai buys all the sulfur.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Orsini Palace.

Cesare and Lucrezia have a moment alone as he shows her the new hiding place for her and her family—Orsini Palace.

"I will have you safe—and where I can come make love to you when I please, away from prying eyes."

"And what of my husband?"

"Fuck him."

"But I don't want to..."

"Of course, you don't, that's not what I mean."

"But you said..."

"What's wrong with you?"

"I'm tired, Cesare...on the way here all I could think about was you—now we're together and my body burns for yours..."

"As does mine, my love..."

"Yeah, about that..."

"What?"

"You're burning body..."

"What?"

"You have been to the doctor, yes?" she asks him in a concerned tone.

"Lucrezia! You've been watching the other 'Borgia' show, haven't you?"

"I had to do something on the ride back..." she says in her defense.

"Please keep it straight—nowhere in our script have the words 'French Disease' ever been written—damn it!"

"I'm sorry, please forgive me. I'm also worried about Alfonso—what if he rides back to Naples?"

"I'll spank him and put him in the corner," he assures her as he nuzzles her nose with his own.

"He could be trouble, Cesare—cause a scandal—if he implies that we often hug way too long, occasionally fall on top of each other joined at the tongue and, you know, make love."

"We're family, we love each other," he says to her before they join tongues; "we're Spanish," he says after their lips part; "we show our affection," he undoes his trousers, turns her away from him and lifts her skirt. "Where's the scandal?" he asks after he's bent her over and sinks his steel into her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Vatican.

Unknown to Cesare, Mattai the Hebrew has secured the gunpowder safely in a warehouse for Pope Alexander. When he goes to his father with his concerns about Caterina he doesn't understand why his father doesn't give a flying fuck.

"Father, why don't you give a flying fuck about this wretched situation? Caterina has gone full-tilt boogie."

"Cesare, don't worry," says Rodrigo as he sits in bed reading a book.

"Don't worry? Let me at least survey the army and our munitions?"

"Sure, go ahead," Rodrigo suppresses a chuckle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forli Castle.

Rufio informs Caterina of the gunpowder shortage. "It must be Cesare Borgia, my lady."

"Cesare is not that smart," she tells him with smug confidence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rome.

The Vatican.

Cesare learns of the gunpowder shortage from Vitelli and Colonna. "It must be Caterina Sforza, my Lord," says Vitelli.

"Caterina is not that smart," Cesare says and then sends Prospero Colonna out to investigate the situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Orsini Palace.

That same night Lucrezia meets her new landlord.

That next day...

Lucrezia goes grocery shopping...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vatican City.

Colonna follows the trail of the golden gunpowder through the streets of Rome...

Cesare surveys his troops and arms and finds Alfonso at sword practice. Alfonso accuses Cesare of being all up in his marriage bed, as rumors imply, even though secretly it's a threesome he wouldn't really mind being a part of. Cesare has a sword fight with Alfonso and beats his hairy ass, then has some soldiers cart a bigger cot into the room. "You're not in the bed at all—tell everyone that, bitch," Cesare says as he marches away from the crying lad.

That night Prospero Colonna finds the warehouse where the sulfur is being stored; Mattai the Hebrew finds his spying ass and tells him to bug the fuck off. Prospero accuses him of being Hebrew; Mattai denies it.

"Am not."

"Are, too...the script, dude—your name is 'Mattai the Hebrew'."

"Do you see my hair? This hot, neatly trimmed beard? I mean, check my shit, man," Mattai holds his arms out and does a cool little 360 then slams the door in Colonna's face.

Colonna goes to Baglioni, then, and suggests betraying Cesare, to which Baglioni replies, "Ixnay, dude—I love my life more than I hate Borgia."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The home of Vannozza dei Cattanei.

Lucrezia visits with her mother and they talk. "The shit is about to hit the fan, mother, and I want to get the fuck out of here."

"Calm yourself, daughter, you're a Borgia—whenever you find yourself near a fan, simply sit _behind_ it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Near the Gates of Rome.

Later that night Prospero is betrayed to Cesare; he tries to flee and is cornered in the warehouse where the angry Spaniard proceeds to grill him about who owns the sulfur.

"Sforza...Caterina Sforza," Colonna pulls her name desperately out of his ass; Cesare hits him with logic.

"Why would she store her shit in Rome, dude? Who owns it, Colonna?" he demands roughly, "Naples? France? Who?" Mattai makes himself known.

"I brought it here—I know who owns the sulfur."

Cesare looks back at the frightened Roman with no mercy in his eyes; he pushes Colonna out of the warehouse—but not before he rolls his ass generously in a pile of gunpowder then takes a torch from a nearby wall.

"You can't do this..." Baglioni tells Cesare.

"Anyone that doesn't want to see this—feel free to leave," Cesare tells them coldly. Baglioni walks away; the others stay while Colonna is subdued, awaiting his fate—Cesare lights the man on fire. They all watch as Colonna runs away, screaming in agony. "Go home now—and let this be a lesson to anyone who would dare to betray me," says Cesare to the rest before he turns and walks away, singing to music that has just started to play from out of nowhere; Cesare's curly locks begin to bounce and sway in time to the music; he throws his hands up then does a sexy little, subdued and too-cool-for-school Dougie as he dances over to Mattai, who has watched the whole ordeal in stunned awe.

_"What ya'll wanna do?_  
Don't you know we always coming through  
Me and my crew  
Lemme hear you say fire it up..." 

He pivots around in time to the music and looks at them...

 _"Fire it up!"_ they return in chorus to him. The only one not singing is Vitellozzo Vitelli, who realizes suddenly that he and Colonna share the unfortunate experience of having witnessed Cesare and Lucrezia being more than familial on the road home that fateful night. He quickly joins in the song as Cesare casts a long knowing gaze at him.

_"Say fire it up..."_

_"Fire it up!"_

The other Sons of Rome sing and dance spiritedly as they go, and their voices soon fade away in the distance.

"Now that's an act that should go on the road!" says Mattai with an impressed nod of his head.

The music stops and Cesare with it; he looks Mattai dead in his eyes and replies soberly, "Oh, I promise you—it is."

Mattai gulps loudly. "Uh, there's a man you need to meet, Cesare." the Hebrew informs him of the strategy behind the plot but does not reveal a name.

"Take me to him," Cesare commands him.


End file.
